Post by Deleted on Oct 26, 2013 23:21:22 GMT -5
He could still see them. And hear their laughter as they tugged on his ears, played with his tail and rolled beside him. No matter how far he ran, no matter how hard he fought, no matter what he did he couldn’t forget their faces as they swam before him. Each of them, in turn, in their confusion watched as he screamed until he was hoarse in their distorted Portuguese tongue at the Shamans, begging them to reconsider their decision, that it wasn’t his goddamn fault. ”It’s not my goddamn fault!” He could hear the echo, ”Eles são o meu maldito crianças!” He had screamed the litany until his throat was raw and screamed it still until his head hurt, until tears burned his eyes and he was broken. Irai, his beautiful mate had looked upon him with disdain. ”Você é o guerreiro da mina.” She had spoken with such conviction, such finality, that it had left him speechless -- trembling where he had stood. Jarek was crumbling inside and his kits looked upon him, confusion clear on their faces; how could they understand that their father was no longer welcome because of something he couldn’t help?
”Agora, eu não suporto a visão de você.” With that Irai had turned her back on him and Jarek broke, then.
Jarek had been restrained by the Warriors of his tribe after a fierce battle, his children sobbing and confused as they watched their father being attacked. Forced from his tribe, beaten and bruised, he never even got to say a proper goodbye to his kits. They watched him leave in shame, in tears. All he had now were the memories. The memories and the ghost of Dukan.
Dukan was always there, always by his side. He could feel his brother in spirit even though he wasn’t there in physical form. It pained him that the loss of his brother had meant the loss of everything else he had held dear in his life. He had watched his brother die in front of him, helpless to stop it. It was a warrior’s life, he knew, but it didn’t help the pain as he slung his brother’s dead weight over his shoulder and carried him back home, entrails dragging along the ground. Dropping him in front of the Shamans had been the hardest thing to do. Irai had had to pry him from his brother’s body, reminding him that there was nothing that he could do. Even then, Jarek had been nearly incapable of leaving his brother. They had been a team since they had been kits and now he was forced to go it alone; much like he was now. Only the pain cut even deeper.
With a start, he realized he had been walking aimlessly. His mind had been elsewhere, clearly, and he chastised himself. Angrily, he looked at the rocks and cursed them in his head. They weren’t at fault but what else could he do? Distracted and ill at ease, Jarek didn’t quite know what else to think. The black Jaguar dipped his silver chin, taking a deep whiff of the surroundings and his blue-teal eyes flashed, his lips twitching. His tail twitched as he crouched, sliding under a particularly low stone arch and into the structure. Padding slowly inside, he peered about. Flicking his ears forward and backward, Jarek’s mind buzzed.
It wasn’t apparent whether there were others around but he wouldn’t let his guard down. The sleek Jaguar splice looked as though he were lazily meandering when in reality, he was far from lazy. Jarek was on guard, ever watching. Midday heat wasn’t his best element but he couldn’t allow that to slow him down if another were to approach him with nefarious designs.
ooc - Translations:
- Eles são o meu maldito crianças! - They're my f***ing children!
- Você é o guerreiro da mina. - You're no warrior of mine.
- Agora, eu não suporto a visão de você. - Leave now, I can't stand the sight of you.
”Agora, eu não suporto a visão de você.” With that Irai had turned her back on him and Jarek broke, then.
Jarek had been restrained by the Warriors of his tribe after a fierce battle, his children sobbing and confused as they watched their father being attacked. Forced from his tribe, beaten and bruised, he never even got to say a proper goodbye to his kits. They watched him leave in shame, in tears. All he had now were the memories. The memories and the ghost of Dukan.
Dukan was always there, always by his side. He could feel his brother in spirit even though he wasn’t there in physical form. It pained him that the loss of his brother had meant the loss of everything else he had held dear in his life. He had watched his brother die in front of him, helpless to stop it. It was a warrior’s life, he knew, but it didn’t help the pain as he slung his brother’s dead weight over his shoulder and carried him back home, entrails dragging along the ground. Dropping him in front of the Shamans had been the hardest thing to do. Irai had had to pry him from his brother’s body, reminding him that there was nothing that he could do. Even then, Jarek had been nearly incapable of leaving his brother. They had been a team since they had been kits and now he was forced to go it alone; much like he was now. Only the pain cut even deeper.
With a start, he realized he had been walking aimlessly. His mind had been elsewhere, clearly, and he chastised himself. Angrily, he looked at the rocks and cursed them in his head. They weren’t at fault but what else could he do? Distracted and ill at ease, Jarek didn’t quite know what else to think. The black Jaguar dipped his silver chin, taking a deep whiff of the surroundings and his blue-teal eyes flashed, his lips twitching. His tail twitched as he crouched, sliding under a particularly low stone arch and into the structure. Padding slowly inside, he peered about. Flicking his ears forward and backward, Jarek’s mind buzzed.
It wasn’t apparent whether there were others around but he wouldn’t let his guard down. The sleek Jaguar splice looked as though he were lazily meandering when in reality, he was far from lazy. Jarek was on guard, ever watching. Midday heat wasn’t his best element but he couldn’t allow that to slow him down if another were to approach him with nefarious designs.
ooc - Translations:
- Eles são o meu maldito crianças! - They're my f***ing children!
- Você é o guerreiro da mina. - You're no warrior of mine.
- Agora, eu não suporto a visão de você. - Leave now, I can't stand the sight of you.